


The ship that (almost) died of shame

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The day after the Array</em>. <br/><em>Janeway looks at Chakotay</em>. <br/><em>What a day for a ship to go astray</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The ship that (almost) died of shame

**Author's Note:**

> The topic of the TPTB of Voyager not pursuing the Janeway and Chakotay dynamic, giving C another woman, etc. was discussed on a message board, how TPTB failed them, so further and so forth. My husband simply said: they emasculated Chakotay. The fans wanted J/C. 
> 
> Here is my contribution by means of a short, short vignette in which Chakotay, well, you decide.
> 
> Disclaimer: Paamount owns Voyager, Janeway and Chakotay.

* * *

He reminded her of an animal, a lithe jaguar or leopard ready to pounce on its prey. His shoulders quivered like a jaguar's - the body low, blades jutting angrily, hind legs primed like a coiled spring, ready to strike with lightning speed, teeth piercing the skull of its prey. The muscles worked like a single entity, twitching, moving under tanned skin that evoked only fear. He oozed self-possession, raw animal magnetism framed in a face that scowled, a jaw that twitched, an appearance that brooked little resistance. She was tumbling backwards into a void with no fortification against the threat of the assault.   
  
She bristled as he filled her space with his aura.  She inhaled him -  her nostrils itched, his flared. He was fully clothed, but the sleeveless leather jacket, the trousers, the boots, the shirt, the phaser rifle, the d'k tahg tugged into his boot - all appeared to be meshed to his skin or they grew out of his skin and seemed to infiltrate her defences. She couldn't decide which it was, except that it looked impossible to separate the man from his tattoo, his clothing, his shodding, his mission, his spirituality, undeniably the very essence of the man.   
__  
He was dangerous.  
  
His dark eyes bore into hers - a challenge to meet his glare, to stare him down, waiting until one of them would emerge as the victor. She was aware only of pending danger, losing herself to this man, of the need to protect Kathryn Janeway and Captain Janeway. He looked magnificent in his Maquis gear -  magnificent and completely unsettling. They were seventy five years from home. How long would she be able to barricade herself against his predatory strength? He shattered her peace and shook her equilibrium.   
  
A sudden image of Mark, lifelong friend, lover, fiancé. An equally sudden realisation that he was not going to be a solid enough safety-net against this dangerous Native American with the black hair, dark eyes, the clothes that seemed to grow from him.

  
She needed to protect herself against him else he was going to kill all her resolve to remain a _Daughter of the Federation_. She had to prevent herself and her ship from suffering the humiliation of capitulating to this formidable adversary.

She was a captain, her skills in dealing with adversaries were honed in the best traditions of Starfleet. It was simple, really, the idea that sprung at the same moment she considered the unacceptability of losing to this man. She had a strategy riding on the back of the predatory jaguar.  
  
She made him a Son of the Federation and dressed him in Starfleet uniform, red of command.   
  
********   
  
END

 


End file.
